


Abandon

by natashalieromanov



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Fear of Abandonment, Gen, Jealousy, Post Snap Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 04:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashalieromanov/pseuds/natashalieromanov
Summary: After the Decimation reversal, Cassie Lang finds herself terrified of the idea that her father might abandon her.





	Abandon

The stars seem brighter after the decimation reversal. Cassie isn’t sure if it’s real or imagined, but it doesn’t make it any less overwhelming. Still, she can’t help but stare at the sky above her as she swings on the hammock. It’s late at night. Dad and Hope are in the house attempting to ease newborn Victoria back to sleep. Cassie had gotten frustrated and stalked outside.

She’d walked right by both of them, but neither had noticed her.

She swipes angrily at her eyes as tears trail their way down her face. She wanted to find comfort in the stars, but as she stared at the sky above her, she felt overwhelmingly  _lonely_. In the grand scheme of the entire universe, she was small and insignificant. What role did she play? What was the point in her existence? 

Where did she fit in her father’s life?

The rest of the world moves on, yet Cassie feels trapped in time. Most of the time she still feels like that terrified ten year old girl whose father had been snatched from her. Those five years had been worse than his three-year prison sentence and his two-year house arrest. At least then she had been able to talk to him on the phone, then text and video chat and see him every weekend. For five years she had  _ached_ and  _cried_ and wanted her father back so badly it  _hurt._ Dad had been her confidant, her fellow troublemaker, her best friend. And then he was taken from her, and Mom and Jim were the best, but they couldn’t fill the void that had taken residence in her very bones.

And then he was back, and it was scary and overwhelming, because, for the first time, they didn’t know how to relate to each other. They were awkward and unsure in a way they never had been, and just when they were finding their footing, Dad started a  _new_ family with Hope and Victoria. 

Dad’s happy. Cassie doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this happy. So she pretends to be happy too. Dad lost five years of his life. He deserves to be happy and to build that future he’d wanted with Hope before a genocidal alien had destroyed everyone’s lives.

Cassie would let him have that. So what if she felt a little hurt and jealous?

(And abandoned, the one thing she had feared the most and it had  _happened_  because she wasn’t enough…)

She’s sixteen years old. It shouldn’t matter that Dad sometimes accidentally leaves her on read or, in his exhausted state, forgets about plans (even though he had never done that  _before_  and what if this is his way of trying to shove her out, to tell her that she’s no longer welcome)?

Dad doesn’t know about the panic attacks that roar through her whenever he doesn’t answer or comes to get her a few minutes late. Doesn’t know about the nightmares Cassie has about him turning to dust, about missing  _more_ time, about being shoved out in favor of Victoria. 

The logical part of her brain screams,  _He’s not doing it on purpose! He can’t help you unless you talk to him!_

The ten-year-old inside of her cries out,  _Daddy, I’m right here! Can’t you see me? You’re back, don’t you want me?_

She registers the porch light turning on from somewhere behind her, but doesn’t bother turning around. She’s tired, too. The idea of sitting up and turning around is too exhausting.

“Hey, Peanut. What are you doing out here? It’s late and it’s cold.”

_He noticed me._

Cassie doesn’t voice that thought. Instead she shrugs and stares blankly ahead. The lump in her throat hurts, and she knows that she’ll cry more if she opens her mouth.

Dad eases himself onto the hammock and puts an arm around her. Cassie can’t help but curl into his side. It reminds her of when she was younger, before Dad got arrested, and she was afraid of thunder. During a storm she’d run to her parents’ room and curl up between them in bed. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt safer.

“Do you want to talk?” Cassie shakes her head and Dad squeezes her briefly. “That’s okay. We can talk in the morning. Why don’t we stay here for a bit? Just you and me.”

Cassie doesn’t respond. She’ll have to come clean tomorrow. Dad knows something’s wrong, and he’s always had a way of getting her to open up when she doesn’t want to. But she’ll deal with that when the time comes.

For the first time in months, her brain is quiet.


End file.
